The Romantic Qualities of Trees
by Gail Lucinda Autor
Summary: A random little fluffy romance piece on our favorite couple of all time. Oneshot. Not my best work, but it's okay. Enjoy! R&R or else!


**Alright, this is NOT my best work in any way, shape, or form. I simply felt the need for some romantic fluff writing this morning and so naturally I decided to pick on my favorite couple! YAY! This is a very stupid story, but hopefully it will entertain you. Oh, and I don't own HP. **

He was _watching _her, she realized with a shiver, glancing over in his direction out of the corner of her eye.

Hermione Granger sat up in a tree with a book, wondering why she hadn't chosen this particular method of escape before. It was peaceful. Quiet. Undisturbed, more or less.

That is, until a certain blond Slytherin decided to stick his pointy nose into it.

"What are you doing up _there, _Granger?" Draco Malfoy sneered as he advanced towards her.

She stiffened, her afternoon's peace lost forever.

"I don't see how that's any of your business, Malfoy," she said, closing her book. The pages made a rather final sound as they met between her palms. "Anyways," she continued, glaring down at him, "what are you doing down _there_?"

"Looking for a tree to climb," he replied, reaching the trunk and casually but still menacingly grabbing a branch on either side, blocking her exit. "You're in my favorite one, Granger. So get out."

"No," Hermione answered, lifting her chin defiantly and praying he would go away.

Draco sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Are you sure?" he asked, gripping a branch more firmly and bracing his foot against the trunk. Without waiting for a reply he hoisted himself up and was sitting across from her in two seconds. Unfortunately, across from her wasn't much better than next to her, up in the confines of the branches. What had seemed like a peaceful, easy place only moments ago suddenly became a prison of sorts to Hermione.

Draco did not seem to feel this same awkward closeness. He leaned back and closed his eyes, resting his head on a branch behind him. They sat like that for some time, Hermione stiff and perhaps a little scared, and Draco completely relaxed.

"So," he said at last, cracking an eyelid.

"So," she replied, staring fixedly off into the distance.

"Oh, for God's _sakes, _Granger, look at me. I don't bite," Draco complained finally. She looked up and saw that he was leaning forward, looking at her irritably. Something in her expression made his face soften.

"Granger?" he asked softly, his tone disbelieving. "Are you…frightened of me?" He reached out, gently but firmly cupping her chin in his hand, feeling her flinch just slightly at the touch as he turned her face towards him.

"Touching a Mudblood now?" Hermione snapped, cursing the slight tremor in her voice.

"I suppose so," he replied easily. His thumb came up, stroking her cheekbone so gently she wondered if she was imagining the touch.

"I'm not afraid of you," Hermoine stated flatly, looking at the ground again.

"Granger, would you look at me?" Draco gripped her chin more firmly, tipping it up, turning it towards him. She obliged, noting a strange look in his steel grey eyes. A gentle intensity, if that made any sense.

She wanted out of that tree.

"Are you sure you're not frightened?" he whispered, his face suddenly closer to hers, eyes searching her face, still stroking the delicate angle of her cheekbone.

"Let go of me," she snarled, her hand coming up to force his away, but it was already gone. He withdrew, sitting straight again, looking away from her. He watched her out of his peripherals as she scrambled out of the tree and ran, leaving her book and Draco Malfoy behind.

…...

Draco cursed himself. What had come over him, he didn't know. He could still feel her skin, so warm and smooth, on his palm and thumb. It was just imagined, though; an imprint, a memory, and it would be gone soon enough. He yearned for it to be more.

What an idiot he'd been.

He hadn't been able to help it, though. The idea of her being frightened of him was both terrible and absurd. She could not fear him. Their glorious rivalry would all collapse if she feared him. Hermione Granger had always seemed _above _all that. She could not be afraid. It just wasn't right.

It was close proximity, nothing more.

He looked down at the book she'd left behind on the branch and smiled.

…..

"Granger!" a familiar voice shouted behind her. Hermione stopped in the middle of the near-empty corridor and turned around to face him, slowly, reluctantly.

The cold, controlled look on her face both annoyed and relieved him. That was not the expression of someone frightened.

"You needn't look like that," Draco said, a little irritably, as he caught up to her. "I just wanted to return your book. You left it in the tree yesterday."

"Oh," she replied, taking it from him and tucking it into her bag. "Thanks, I suppose."

He cleared his throat. "Granger…about yesterday, I only meant—"

She cut him off. "It's alright. It was nothing. But you should know, Malfoy, that I'm not afraid of you," she added, meeting his eyes.

"I know," he answered, relieved. "And I'm very glad for it. There was just something in your expression yesterday…it looked quite a lot like fear…"

"Have plenty of experience with that, do you?"

She knew by the hurt look on his face that she'd said the wrong thing.

"I suppose that's what I get for trying to make sure you're alright, Granger," he said softly, looking down.

"Malfoy, no…I only meant—"

"It's alright, Granger." He held up a hand, silencing her. "I deserve it, don't I?"

"You do," she agreed softly.

Draco sighed and reached out, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "I'm sorry," he whispered, and then his lips were on hers.

It was soft at first, gentle, and, she thought, truly apologetic. His hands rested loosely on her waist, not pulling her in or keeping her at a distance, but simply being there.

She debated, briefly, about whether to kiss him back or fight him off. It was never much of an argument, though, and soon her arms were around his neck and his hands were pulling at her waist and the kiss definitely wasn't an apology anymore.

At last they broke apart, gasping for breath. She leaned back against the wall and sighed as he brushed his lips gently against her neck.

"Malfoy?" she asked after a time.

"Mm?" he mumbled, lifting his head to look her in the eye.

"Why…why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?" he asked innocently, widening those grey eyes, normally so shrewd and calculating.

"Gee, I dunno," she muttered sarcastically. He laughed.

"I don't know why I should answer that question," he murmured in her ear. "Something wrong with just accepting the pleasure of my company, is there?"

"Yes," Hermione replied.

"But _why_?" he whined, kissing her jaw.

"Oh, God, I don't know!" she snapped. "Maybe because tomorrow you'll be snogging some other girl in the corridor when we're supposed to be in—"

He silenced her for a time, kissing her hungrily.

"What was I saying?" she whispered when he finally pulled away.

"How much you love me and you hope I'll never leave and how desperately you want to sleep with me tonight," Draco said around the skin of her throat.

"I believe _you _said those things, Malfoy," she smirked.

"Never," he growled, moving his lips down to trace her collarbone. His hair tickled her, but she didn't move. She kept having to remind herself to breathe.

"So…what happens now?" Hermoine managed to get out, after a time. "Class will be ending soon."

"Well," he said, lifting his head, "I know a nice little tree, not far from here…"

She laughed and allowed him to lead her outside.

The romantic qualities of trees are often overlooked, but not today.


End file.
